| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Travels with a Donkey in the Cevenne by Robert Louis Stevenson: it would appear, of North America and of New England in particular.
As far as my experience goes, there is a fair field for some more
evangelisation in these quarters; but think of Cotton Mather! I
should like to give him a reading of this little work in heaven,
where I hope he dwells; but perhaps he knows all that already, and
much more; and perhaps he and Mrs. Seton are the dearest friends,
and gladly unite their voices in the everlasting psalm. Over the
table, to conclude the inventory of the room, hung a set of
regulations for MM. LES RETRAITANTS: what services they should
attend, when they were to tell their beads or meditate, and when
they were to rise and go to rest. At the foot was a notable N.B.:
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The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from The Pool in the Desert by Sara Jeanette Duncan: look at your animal's near fore. The swelling's as big as a bun
already.'
Again he made me no answer, but looked intently and questioningly at
Dora.
'Get off, Mr. Armour,' she said, sharply, 'and lead your horse home.
It is not fit to be ridden. Goodbye.'
I have no doubt he did it, but neither of us were inclined to look
back to see. We pushed on under the deodars, and I was indulgent to
a trot. At the end of it Dora remarked that Mr. Armour naturally
could not be expected to know anything about riding, it was very
plucky of him to get on a horse at all, among these precipices; and
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Voice of the City by O. Henry: "Oh, wait; I know what it is. Wait, James. I'll
be back in a minutes''
With a parting bug that revived in Mr. Peters
recollections of the Terrible Turk, his wife hurried
out of the room and down the stairs.
Mr. Peters hitched his thumbs under his sus-
penders.
"All right," he confided to the ceiling. "I've got
her going. I hadn't any idea the old girl was soft
any more under the foolish rib. Well, sir; ain't I
the Claude Melnotte of the lower East Side? What?
The Voice of the City |
